


The Kalos Divergence

by freckleslikeconstellations



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Adventure, Bribery, Detective Work, Encouragement, F/M, French, Friendship, Grief, Guilt, Kalos, Memory Loss, Miare City | Lumiose City (Pokemon), Overprotective Behaviour, Pokemon Abuse, Post-Game, Rivalry, Romance, Science, Secrets, Summer, Support, Trust, pokemon shelters, women in STEM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-26 01:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30098436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleslikeconstellations/pseuds/freckleslikeconstellations
Summary: Ray's investigative work into a Pokémon shelter in Kalos quickly begins to change her life as she meets an old friend and makes new ones.
Relationships: Professor Sycamore/Original Female Character
Comments: 14
Kudos: 1





	1. Ray

Twenty-eight year-old Ray practices smiling, but not looking _too_ weird as she walks through Lumiose City in the region of Kalos. Smiling isn’t something that comes naturally to her after all, and though she’s done things like this before, her heartbeat _always_ quickens, which can make her look tense and even more serious than she normally does. 

She approaches the Sycamore Pokémon Research Laboratory underneath the summer heat and passes a couple who are carrying their shopping. They are followed by a small child and a Dedenne. She offers them a small smile and tries to look normal too for the man who is out walking his Furfrou. 

Ray turns, steps past the Poké Ball capped pillars, which mark the path to the lab’s entrance and enters the building. She is dressed in a red jacket with a black pocket, collar and cuffs. Over dark shorts a belt is slung. Her lone Poké Ball is attached to it. Black thigh high socks cover most of her legs, whilst red trainers adorn her feet. There is nothing different from her normal attire in what she is wearing today and she is also carrying a silver folder that she’ll need for the discussion that she is about to have. 

“Bonne après-midi,” she reports to the reception politely and to the woman with straight, blonde hair who blinks at her briefly, as she looks away from the computer screen. “I’m here to see the professor? I’ve got a lunchtime appointment.” The area that the reception is in is largely abandoned, but there are a couple of people-a middle-aged man, along with a younger one-who are conversing in Kalosian-a language, which she has picked up enough of to try and blend in, whilst she is here. [She is from Hoenn originally, though it is a long time since she has been back there.] 

The receptionist double-checks her name with her and then says, “Oui, oui, just allow me one moment.” She puts a little tick against Ray’s name on a clipboard, before she calls upstairs, presumably to announce Ray’s arrival. Ray tries not to fidget, shift her position _or_ to fiddle with her brown hair. It is usually a lot more jagged but she’d straightened it for the occasion and now believes it to be a _wise_ choice considering the hair of the woman who is opposite her. She shifts her position and feels her partner Pokémon as he wobbles in his Poké Ball, no doubt trying to reassure her. Finally the receptionist replaces the phone in the cradle with a soft click and looks at her. A good-natured smile is upon her face and Ray remembers her own. “He is ready for you.” She gestures to the elevator with her manicured hand and Ray wonders how much it had cost the woman to get her nails done. _Hers_ had used to be nice too, but they are a little damaged through wear and tear by now. “Please take it to the third floor. You will see a partition? The professor will be just behind it,” she instructs.

“Thank you.” Ray bows her head and turns. With her throat a little dry she makes her way to the elevator. Behind her she hears the tap of fingers, as they hit the keys of a keyboard. The receptionist must have gone back to work. 

Clearing her throat a little Ray steps up to the elevator and presses the button. The doors open swiftly for her. She walks inside. She does not turn around again until she feels the banishment of the cool, man-made air as the elevator doors close. She is left with stifling heat and she places a hand to her forehead as she deals with the last-minute nerves that she _always_ feels. In her head she tells herself that she is _sure_ that this is the most sensible option. At almost the same time there is an eruption from her belt and a flash of almost _blinding_ light as her Pokémon releases himself from his Poké Ball. The Fletchling chirps and flaps around her, as if he is egging her on. She feels better almost instantly, encouraged by his positivity and is reminded about _why_ he makes such a good partner Pokémon. 

“You want to make me feel better, huh?” She smiles genuinely for the first time since she’d heard a song that she liked that morning and holds a bent finger out to him. The Fletchling’s noise gets louder, before he lands on her shoulder in a flurry of feathers and a burst of laughter spills from her mouth-just as the elevator door opens. 

She ceases her noise, but it is too late. She only has to _turn_ her head to realize that she has been spotted.

A tall, gangly man with waves of dark hair and stubble stands before her. “Ah! But what do we have here? You have a Fletchling? You should have _said_ that you were bringing one along, no?” he asks.

She recognizes him as the professor-in attire that comprises a dark blue shirt, black trousers with a yellow belt, brown shoes with grey stripes and a lab coat-and apologizes. She steps out of the elevator. He withdraws a little to accommodate her, but their eyes seem to meet in the middle of their actions-gold against grey-and her heart skips a beat like it had done that one time she’d fallen downstairs as a child. Little does she know that _his_ is doing the same, in his case only _moments_ after it had done such a thing when he’d heard her melodious laugh. 

“Non, please do not apologize. I merely meant that I would have been _glad_ that you appreciate the Pokémon of this region.” He steps a little closer to her. His slender finger makes to tickle underneath Fletchling’s beak, but his eyes are on her the entire time. 

She’s seen his face in magazines, but in that moment everything that she’d appreciated is right in front of her and at a heightened level it seems. Those eyes brim with enthusiasm and somehow don’t seem cold, _despite_ their colour. His body seems to vibrate with energy. There is no _way_ to turn the page like she had done with those magazines. To move on quickly after a few moments of staring appreciatively. This figure is _not_ isolated. It is _alive,_ and he lifts a hand now, so that he can tap warmly at her arm. She hears him say something about them having lunch together and nods and tries to get her usually obedient brain to focus just in case he comes up with something that requires a more complicated answer from her, yet… Those magazines hadn’t fully prepared her for that smile! _Or_ for the scent of his Gracidea cologne, which she tries to inhale more of as he steers her. Or how, in her head, the moment that he mentions lunch with him, she has visions of them as they chat and laugh at one of the finest establishments in the city. In her vision she is free from the responsibilities of her job, and he is free from his, and they have an entire afternoon to while away together, _which,_ she realizes in that moment like she hasn’t done for years, might be a _nice_ thing for her to have. 

In reality, however, he leads her _away_ from where some people are working and around the partition wall to where a small tray of various sandwiches, snacks like protein bars, apples and lemon cake, some Pokémon food and a bottle of pleasant looking red wine are awaiting them upon his desk. The desk _might_ be pretty and engraved, whilst the paintings of Pokémon that are behind it only _add_ to the atmosphere, but in that moment she feels like drinking the entire bottle of wine _herself._

She shakes her head. It’s not _his_ fault that she’s fallen into a daydream [something which she usually leaves to the night if at all.] This is probably the _only_ way that Sycamore has time for lunch. In fact it is all that _she_ has time for if she is sticking to what she _normally_ does-minimum interaction in order to achieve her target. As she comes back to herself she turns to her Fletchling. “Maybe I better put you back,” she tells him a little despondently [even _though_ she’s spotted the Pokémon food she thinks that it might be _best_ to minimize the amount of time that they are eating for and just get down to business if she can.]

Sycamore, who is just a little ahead of her by that point, turns a little at her words and taps at her hand. His smile is wide as he looks at her and she tries not to be dazzled by it. “Leave him out, no? There is not much food there for him, I know, but there _is_ a little. Let him have it. Let him be free.” She feels something ease in her stomach at that. 

“Well, okay.” She shrugs her shoulders and watches as Fletchling, having risen from them, goes to land on the gramophone. “Not _there,”_ she tries to correct his action. 

“Non, it does not matter,” Sycamore is dismissive and ushers them both to the desk. She sits before it. He takes up the comfortable looking chair, which is on the other side. She feels the full beam of his eyes upon her and tries to divert them by looking at her folder. “Let’s eat a little first and _then_ you can tell me what you came to discuss. Sophie, my assistant, who perhaps you will meet in due course, says that I sometimes act as if work gives me indigestion.” They laugh a little at that-Ray doing so too high and nervously, Sycamore just as awkwardly. “That is not true of course, but everything has its place, don’t you think?”

“Oui.” She is not sure what to do with her body suddenly. 

“A meal like this, in such company, _must_ be enjoyed. There can be no distraction from it.” He pushes the platter of sandwiches towards her and she takes one. He looks relieved and follows suit. 

For a while they munch quite contentedly. Sycamore takes delight when Fletchling decides to do a couple of loops around their heads. The bird Pokémon even lands on his shoulder at one point. When Sycamore offers a bit of his sandwich to him, he pecks obligingly at it. The Pokémon chirps happily and rubs his face a little against the professor’s cheek. “Oui, you are most welcome mon ami. I would have had some more _specific_ food prepared for you if I had known that _you_ would be coming. I hope that _you_ are also enjoying the meal?” He looks across at Ray. 

“Mm.” She lifts the remaining part of her sandwich up at him. She is a little embarrassed because her cheek is bulging, but the professor just smiles at her indulgently. 

About halfway through their lunch Sycamore turns a little more serious, however, and says, “I am sorry that we cannot enjoy a better meal in a-I will not say _finer_ -but different establishment. Things are a little _odd_ at the moment. It is probably wise that I am _here_ rather than anywhere else.”

“Of course.” She licks her fingers in order to try and pretend that she is _not_ aware of the tall, redheaded man who had been Sycamore’s friend, but who had _also_ tried to commit genocide not too long ago, causing questions to surge amongst the people of the region about the professor’s judgment. She is not _here_ to ask him such questions for one thing. It is not for _her_ to decide and she doesn’t know enough about the matter in any case. Rather she is here for another reason _entirely_ and she looks up at him determinedly now. “I suppose we should get on with work,” she prompts. 

“Oui.” He brushes away the crumbs from his _own_ fingers and bows his head. “You are a journalist? _That_ must be interesting?” 

“It can be.” Her folder on the desk in front of her she runs her hands down her shorts and gets ready for the _business_ side of things. _“And_ rather distressing at times.” She looks up at him. 

“Oh, can you tell me about it?” He leans forward, placing his hand upon the desk for balance. 

“I take it you’re _aware_ of the current crisis that is exploding in the region?” He looks at her a little uneasily at that; seemingly unsure as to what she is trying to tell him and she is reminded of how difficult it had been to get a meeting with him in the _first_ place. Having got through to a member of his staff she’d had to work quite hard and stress that it was an issue, which related to Pokémon _alone_ that had meant she wanted the meeting with him. Possibly because of what had happened _previously_ with his friend his staff had seemed to be rather protective of him, _shielding_ him from your typical journalist and now Ray can see Sycamore’s _own_ skepticism about why she is there and knows that she will have to proceed delicately with him. “The shelters that have been popping up all over in cities like this one?” she tries to explain to him more plainly.

“Oh, you mean because more and more people are just having Pokémon for a short amount of time?” 

“Oui, the people use them like fashion statements until they’ve had their fill and return them to the wild”-her voice rises indignantly as he leans back in his chair and studies her, finding her passion to be an attractive thing-“Only the Pokémon, having been spoilt until that point, are then _unable_ to survive in the wild as they once did, which is why”-

“Why the shelters had to be built to accommodate them. Oui, I am familiar with the matter. Why, Sophie and I were just discussing it the other day.”

“And what conclusion did you come to?” He blinks at her now. “This is a very serious matter Professor Sycamore and I am asking you what conclusion you came to because I think that the Pokémon Research Laboratory of this region should be playing its _own_ part here.”

“You have an idea?” the professor looks unusually meek and intrigued. She bows her head and finally takes a breath. Fletchling lets out its own chirping version of a chuckle, as if to say, _‘doesn’t she ever,’_ which makes Ray frown, but then relax somewhat again when the bird Pokémon lands on her shoulder. “I think he would like to hear what you have to say as well, but why don’t you have some more of the wine first?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “This is important.” Sycamore’s hand retreats from where it had just curled around the wine bottle and he looks ready to listen. “I would like to enter into an arrangement with the lab.”

“Go on.” Sycamore inches towards her, his hands upon his cheeks and his face rapt with attention.

“If the lab was _able_ to get me into the shelter more officially-I am a freelance journalist you see, I have no boss to do such a thing for me and only a _small_ reputation of my own-then I could spread the word about the Pokémon that are there through writing an article about it. I was _also_ hoping that maybe you could suggest some of the Pokémon to any trainers that might be suitable or take some of them on here. I don’t _want_ to get into the shelter through making them _think_ that I am interested in adopting a Pokémon and then going on to talk about other matters more publicly, _or_ to confuse any of the Pokémon that are there. I want to do this by the book.” She holds her breath tentatively for a moment, but she doesn’t have to wait for long- 

“Why, I think that sounds like a très bien idea! _Sophie?_ Sophie, why don’t you come and hear what this Mademoiselle is saying, no? She has a splendid idea! It will be good for you to hear!” he says the second half of his words loudly and an inquiring woman with blue hair and glasses emerges from around the partition a few moments later, the clack of her heels preceding her. 

She smiles a little awkwardly at Ray in greeting and mumbles a few words, before she turns her attention to her boss. “You wanted to see me, Professor?” Ray senses that it is not the _first_ time that she has been interrupted by him, whilst she has been trying to do her work.

Sycamore throws his hand out enthusiastically towards Ray. The young woman shares her idea once more and Sophie turns out to be similarly susceptible to her plan. 

Ray swaps details with them so that they will be able to contact her via the Holo Caster when they sort everything out with the shelter.

“Now we wait,” she tells Fletchling, who is hovering by her head. “Arigato,” she speaks her home language, not feeling a _need_ to try and blend in when it is just the pair of them. “I don’t think that would have worked so well if it wasn’t for you.” He chirps and does a loop in the air. “All right,” she laughs, touching him when he nuzzles against her cheek. “You’ve earnt a good rest. Thank you.” She returns him to his Poké Ball and makes for the furthest Pokémon Center from the lab, where she is staying. She does not know that the professor’s heart had almost _swooned_ at hearing her laughter through one of the lab’s open windows _or_ how smitten with her he has become after one simple encounter and what that will do to her intended plan.


	2. Augustine

Ray blinks and stretches when she wakes the following morning. The blanket, which is decorated with images of Poké Balls and that she’d brought _herself_ to the Center-she has _long_ since learnt that the duvet provided by the Pokémon Center is _far_ too thick to be tolerable in the summer months, even _with_ the differences between the regions-slips down to her hips and she clutches at it a little, before she gets out of bed. She gets dressed and tidies up, replacing the duvet that she’d thrown off the bed the previous night and rolling her own back up again. Fletchling releases himself from his Poké Ball just as she’s checking for any messages on her Holo Caster. 

She is disappointed when there _aren’t_ any. 

Maybe she won’t be able to make as much progress today as she’d _hoped,_ she thinks. 

She brushes her teeth thoughtfully and then heads downstairs. She’ll figure out what to do for the day, whilst her Pokémon and her have breakfast. 

A surprise is waiting for her, however-not in the form of an unusual meal [and there have been a _few_ of those in her time in the field] or any news from Nurse Joy [Joy and her family members of the same name have gotten _used_ to taking messages for her] but Professor Sycamore, who is waiting in one of the booths with his eyes focused on the stairs. 

Thinking how that changes things Ray tries to predict how the day could go from that point on and puts her warmest smile on as she approaches him. [For once it is not such a hard thing for her to do.] 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon.” As a few other people glance their way she extends her hand for him to shake.

“Bonjour.” He kisses in between her knuckles instead of shaking it and she has to swallow down a bit of a blush. “I have to say that your hair is different today. Is that how you _normally_ wear it?” She nods, wondering whether she should feel irritated or _flattered_ that he obviously prefers her straightened hair, compared to the jagged mop that it is in that day. _“Curious.”_ He looks at her for a moment. “In any case”-he draws himself up, but still holds on to her hand-“I came to tell you that the shelter is willing to see us today”-

_“Us?”_ She pulls her hand back. 

“Oui, I thought that I might accompany you, if you have no other plans of course? I would like to see the situation for myself.”

“I see”-his face grows tentatively concerned at her words-“No, that will be fine. Of _course_ it will be.” She shakes her head, as if to snap herself out of something and he looks relieved and ushers her away from the traveling path of other people and into a booth. “It makes sense that you would want to see such a thing, Professor,” she tells him as they both sit down opposite one another. 

“Call me Augustine, Mademoiselle s'il te plaît.”

“Then, ‘Ray.’ Please call me Ray.” He nods. “Shall we eat? You haven’t had your breakfast?”

“Non, not yet.” He hesitates a moment. “It is a beautiful name. _Yours_ I mean. Having permission to use it makes me remember _why_ I felt as if the sun had risen with your arrival yesterday.”

“Yours is pretty as well. I must feed my Pokémon, excusez moi.” 

“Oui.”

He watches as she gets out a dish that she keeps in the small bag, which she’d brought down with her. Augustine is approving of the Pokémon food that she removes from it, as it is high in nutrients and as he tells her that she feeds her Pokémon well he is _sure_ that he does not mistake the blush that is upon her face. Is it there because of _him_ though or because she is a woman who is _unaccustomed_ to compliments? He cannot tell. It is true that he has fallen for her already, however, and _knows_ that like with many of the _other_ people that he has been lustful over in the past it has been too quick to be sensible probably, but he cannot help but _hope_ for the relationship all the same. He tries to hint at the fact. He fetches a jug of water from the next table over and passes it to her when she is ready to pour some in a second dish that she has retrieved from her bag. As he pulls away from her a little his hand rests over her smaller one and she startles. The same eyes that had taken his breath away yesterday swivel to find his and he looks at her for a moment too long. She chuckles awkwardly. He tangles their legs together as they eat and hopes that she _knows_ the reason that he’s doing it for. In fact she is mildly uncomfortable by the action, not because it is creepy or anything, but because it reminds her of just how distracting he can be. She does not pull away from him, however, even though her brain feels like it can only _half_ -function with him being that close. 

“You have no other friends?” He gestures at where the Fletchling is pecking merrily beside them. 

“No.” She half-meets his eyes and the hint of vulnerability that is in them makes him _both_ want to defend her and sorry that he has asked. “It is just Fletchling and I.” She looks down at her breakfast, but the toast that she has slathered with butter doesn’t seem to be so appealing to her and she leaves her tea to go cold. 

“Perhaps I should give you a Pokédex?” he ventures. “Everyone who I have given one to has made many friends because of it”-

“I am fine, honestly, Augustine”- She looks up and lifts up her hands, so that her palms are facing him.

“You say that, but even the journalists that I have come across _before_ have more than one Pokémon. You must be lonely, no?”

“I suppose…maybe a little at times,” she confesses after some hesitancy.

“Allow us to make a day of it then. Why don’t we have dinner together tonight? After we visit the shelter?” he is enthusiastic.

Mindful of the fact that she doesn’t _usually_ mix with people quite so much as she has already done in her work and mindful _too_ of the fact that he is sitting in front of her looking so innocently attractive she does a nervous kind of gulp. “I think we should just see how the day goes first, don’t you?” Her eyes swivel back down to her breakfast.

He does not reply, but makes to follow suit when she abandons the rest of her meal and stands. He watches her disrupt Fletchling’s breakfast so that she can pack the dishes away and feels a little colder by the act. She returns the Pokémon and mumbles something about Augustine waiting there, whilst she fetches what she’ll need for the day. 

He spends the interim thinking about her and why she seems to be _so_ reluctant to spend time with others or to befriend them in _spite_ of the obvious loneliness that she’s feeling. Is it _him?_ He wonders. Had he pushed things too far, too soon and been _over_ friendly with her? He wishes that he could speak to Sophie in that moment. She would tell him, he feels _sure,_ if he had done something wrong. 

Yet when Ray returns to him it is with a little more chirpiness about her. “About before-you were just being welcoming. I shouldn’t have reacted to you like I did. I might not be able to go out with you tonight however. I-I need to be able to write-up everything, whilst it is fresh in my mind”-she does not quite meet his eyes, but he _wants_ to believe her and so takes her word for such a thing-“But I would _love_ to go out with you, before I leave the city.” She has decided that perhaps she _should_ allow herself this one concession once the case is hopefully more wrapped up. _One_ meal with an attractive man can’t hurt, can it? Even if he’s just being _friendly…_

Something inside Augustine’s heart both _jumps_ at the development and simultaneously topples. “You will have to leave as soon as you finish the article?” He leads them to the door with a furrowed brow. 

“Oui.”

He holds the door open for her and looks back. “Then I suddenly find myself _regretting_ being so diligent and getting in touch with the shelter. I fear that the shadows will return to the city as soon as you leave it.” He sweeps out the door. 

“You think that something dark will happen? How can you believe it?” she wonders what he knows. Is there something _else_ going on in this city that she needs to be aware of? 

He stops and at first she thinks that he is just being nice and allowing her to catch up, but then she does and she _sees_ the dark expression that is on his face. She senses that it is an _unusual_ thing for him to wear. He peers down at her and the tentative smile that she offers him quickly vanishes. “It happened in this region not so long ago, to other people and to me personally, as I am sure that you _know_ being a journalist. So dark things have happened here and they could happen again.” He looks at her rather challengingly. “I had _hoped_ that when you spoke of doing good and helping Pokémon that, that was _entirely_ what you meant. But if you have only used that as a _trick_ to soften my defences, so that you can ask about _Lysandre,_ then I want no further part of it. You should just ask your questions and then leave me be.”

She swallows and shakes her head. “That is _not_ what I am here for. I _am_ concerned about the Pokémon.” He stares at her, long and hard.

He must be able to see _some_ honesty upon her face, for he says, “Forgive me my assumption Ray,” and he is softer and gentler and much _more_ like the man that she thinks is really _him_ in that moment. “I think, that because of what happened”-he speaks slowly and carefully, as if he is treading over Chansey egg shells-“I got into the mindset that there was no human kindness left. I lost my best friend and in doing so I feel like I lost part of myself. Felt down and somewhat depressed. The enthusiasm that I put on? It was just a front. I felt _hazy_ in front of all the questions and speculation. Felt at a loss and as if _I_ was the only one to remember Lysandre’s goodness. But then _you_ walked into the lab Ray. You talked of the problem that you saw, so passionately, and it was like a last gift from my friend-a chance to do something, which felt _right,_ even if I cannot make other people see what I want them to. I cannot control that, and I probably have little control here as well, but at _least”_ \- He looks at her wistfully. She turns her head away from him, feeling guilty.

“You think that today might be the first step on the path to you seeing the good in the world again?” 

“Oui, that is a good way of putting it. I want to _do_ some good as well,” he says. 

She sighs and looks at him. “Augustine…” she says, before her face flickers with some unspoken resolve. “You do _know_ that I can’t even guarantee that _today”-_

“Oui. I know that today might not go as well for some reason. They might not like the idea as much as they seemed to on the phone. People are being employed there after all and if there becomes no need for the shelter then they will lose their jobs, but the _Pokémon_ will probably be happier for it and it is their health and welfare that interest me the most, so I am trying to be optimistic here.” Guilt bubbles up inside her stomach as he looks down at her and smiles tenderly. She tries to take his hand in a gesture of apology or solidarity, she isn’t sure _which_ in that moment. He looks at her and appears initially surprised, before he manages a smile again. He turns his hand and squeezes hers, but he is too _pure_ for her in that moment and she has to pull away from him, pretending like her bag needs to be adjusted on her shoulder and acting like she does _not_ see the unhappy frown that takes over his face. She walks away instead of choosing to confront such a thing. 

She feels so conflicted. Is it because she has been allowing someone in more to her sphere, whilst she works? Is it as superficial as the fact that she finds him attractive? _Or,_ and this seems _much_ more likely to be the case to her, is it because his words had just evoked the _main_ reason that she’d chased the lead up in the first place-the fact that Pokémon might be suffering? Yet she still can’t bring herself to be fully honest with him. Honest about the fact that-if what she has heard is correct and if Augustine learns about the thing, as well as how she had come upon the information in the _first_ place-it might upset him more than heal him. 

“It’s just in here,” she says when they eventually reach the shelter. 

“Oui,” Augustine, who has been trudging along behind her thoughtfully, speaks now.  
She notices that the windows are ajar on the side of the building. Augustine places a hand upon her back once he reaches her and it causes her to shiver and to startle forwards a little. “At least they have fresh air.” He nods, having spotted the open windows as well.

“Mm.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Oui.” She makes to move forwards, before she pauses and looks up at him. “You don’t have to come with me.” 

He looks steadily at her for a moment, before his hand curls further around her back. “I need this Mademoiselle.”

“All right.” She lets out a breath and moves hurriedly inside, reporting to the reception. 

A man who is a little younger than Augustine and her with a wispy ginger moustache and ratty brown hair comes from beyond the thick and heavy security door to show them around. His uniform is a grey-green sludge in its colour and she makes a mental note of the utility belt that he wears-it is _full_ of sharp objects. 

She tries to disconnect herself emotionally from all of the Pokémon and the _far_ too small cages that they are in, as they move through the door and begin to walk around the square shelter. Each one of the Pokémon-from Growlithe, Furfrou, Skitty and a Fennekin like the ones that Augustine gives to new trainers-tries to get her attention because they have been deprived of such a thing, but she gives them nothing more than a terse smile in response. She takes in the smell of disinfectant-it might be covering up something _more_ sinister than Pokémon waste after all-before she tries to put it to the back of her mind. She asks questions to keep herself focused.

The Pokémon get a little exercise every day they are told. Of course it is not as _much_ as they’d have in the wild or possibly with a trainer, but the shelter gives them what it can. People and volunteers bring in toys and food for them, but there is never enough entertainment to go around and barely enough food. The man, on the whole, seems quite glad for their interest and as if they might have come along at the right time. She wonders if he has seen anything and if he is relying on her to change things up as much as _Augustine_ is relying on being able to do the same by her side. The pressure builds up inside her head and she bites at her lip momentarily and half-closes her eyes. She needs to be clear-headed for this, she _knows_ that she does, or she won’t be much use to anyone. 

Augustine cannot master himself so well, however. He was already feeling vulnerable, _prior_ to them coming here, and seeing so many of the Pokémon that he loves in such unsettling conditions forces him to stop. 

_“Ray!”_ he cries out at the same time that she realizes he is no longer walking steadily by her side and looks around to see him. “I do not know if I can go any further. There is too much pain here,” he tries to explain, but his sorrow is self-evident, for she can see the tears that prick at his eyes. “I am sorry. I am not over what happened before and all of this”-he waves his hands-“The _unkindness_ of people to leave their Pokémon here"-

“Maybe you should wait outside?” She moves towards him quickly, afraid that they will _both_ have to leave if he continues in such a vein. 

“You are disappointed in me?” Augustine looks fearful.

“No. No.” She shakes her head and tries to be kinder to him. “Why don’t you try and think of a place where the pair of us can have lunch?” She bridges the gap that is between them and takes his hand to _further_ try and quell his fears, even though that what might make him strong seems to make her weak. She swallows once more, trying to ignore the tingling sensation that passes between them, before she rubs her thumb over his hand twice. Her eyes concentrate on her path and she tries to steady her breathing. 

“What are you not telling me?” he means to say that he _feels_ as if she is being reluctant to share her _true_ feelings with him, but it comes out in that way instead and has her feeling _afraid._ There is _care,_ not accusation in his eyes, and certainly not the terrible anger that had been there _previously_ however, and she swallows back the sudden _fright_ that she’d felt about him realizing something. It turns out that she is afraid of him dismissing her as much as _he_ is of her doing the same to him.

“Nothing,” she murmurs. 

“But why can’t you allow yourself to-?”

“I am nearly finished. Why don’t you leave this place? I won’t be long.” 

“You have enough?”

“Oui. And I am sure that I can _e-mail_ if I think of anything?” She glances back at the man, who had been showing them around. 

He nods uncertainly at her, _obviously_ feeling awkward about the tender display that they’d just put on for him and she reddens, feeling embarrassed about it all herself. She has gotten in too deep with Augustine, _that_ is what she concludes in that moment. 

The professor swallows and looks relieved. When she sends him on his way he can’t get out of there fast enough. His shoes slap against the floor. She does not know whether his body is just jerking in its movement or if he is trembling, but suspects the latter. 

Something fierce takes over her and as soon as he is out of sight she looks back at the young shelter worker. “You will be kind about this?” she questions him. “You will not tell anyone?” 

“I will, of course, be discreet.” He holds out a hand. She lets out a sigh, but when his eyebrows rise at her she gives him some money from her bag. She does not want-she _knows_ in that moment-Augustine to come to any more harm because of her. He has been through enough and she feels guilty again for what she is keeping from him and fearful that it would mostly make him angry with her if she _were_ to be honest. Once the man deems her payment to be respectable he withdraws his hand and pockets his spoils greedily. She senses that even if he _had_ seen anything then it wouldn’t have taken much to buy his silence, no matter _what_ he truly believes is right and wrong.

She instructs him to lead her on the rest of the tour. An out of place fountain stands centre stage in the grimy courtyard. She tuts at it absentmindedly, but it is when she notices a door leading into the back with, _‘Staff Only,’_ marked on it, as they come close to one of the corners of the square building, that _properly_ draws her back into the present again. She is almost tempted to ask the man what is through there and to see if he will give anything up, but she doesn’t want to blow the operation and Augustine has acted peculiarly enough for the _pair_ of them so she stays silent. 

*

“Is your job _always_ like that?” Augustine has been quieter throughout lunch, but now he wants to know a few things and reaches to pull her hand into his own. She feels cold like an ice type Pokémon had just used a mini blizzard attack on her hand, but his body heat soon diminishes the initial shock. “I do not know how you can cope with it.” He stares at their hands and rubs his fingers in a soft circle over the roughened back of hers. She wants to say that he doesn’t know the _half_ of it. _“Well,”_ all of a sudden he seems to think that _she_ is the one in need of cheering up and maybe he is right, “I have already notified the trainers that I know about the plight of those poor Pokémon. They are _all_ committed to doing what they can for them. Even Serena, who as you might know”-

“Is this region’s champion.” She manages a small smile for him. “Thank you Augustine.” 

“Non, I have not done much,” he is humble again, but looks pleased by her gratitude. “I’m presuming that you want to write up your article tonight?” He looks at her knowingly. She reddens and nods. “Then maybe we can get our dinner tomorrow?” he tries to be hopeful. 

_“Maybe.”_ She tries to smile at him, but she doesn’t have much _faith_ in everything being resolved by the next day. 

*

That night, instead of sitting in her room at the Pokémon Center and frantically being in the middle of typing up her article like Augustine no doubt _thinks_ that she is doing, she returns to the shelter. 

It is almost completely dark by that point. 

This time she does _not_ use the visitor’s entrance, but rather manages to clamber in through one of the side windows that happen to be still ajar. 

She eases herself softly down on the floor and releases Fletchling as she straightens. She puts a finger to her lips, but the bird Pokémon understands instinctively what is going on. 

Stealthily she makes her way towards the brightly lit corridor from the darkened storage room that she is in. She has a peep in both directions, ready to pull her head back if need be. When some of the Pokémon see her they begin to fuss and get excited, brushing up against the metal bars of their cages and she gestures for them to be quiet. Aside from some harrumphing from the canine Pokémon they seem to understand and the eerie silence resumes. 

She creeps out and begins to make her way down the corridor. Fletchling hovers over her shoulder. They both look around periodically. Ray hums a little as she visually sees what her mind remembers from earlier. 

_Suddenly_ she catches a glimpse of the inviting looking door-the one that is marked with, _‘Staff Only,’_ that she’d seen before-and she scurries towards it. Once she has reached it she glances at Fletchling. He nods. She takes a deep breath and pushes the door open as suddenly as possible, hoping to stun and shock if there is anyone there. The light comes on in the room automatically, but there is no one _human_ there. 

Breathing more freely, she steps inside and looks around, studying her environment once the door is closed behind her. 

Cages line three of the walls. In them they contain Pokémon that are not on display to the public. They are Pokémon that have been mistreated, Ray quickly sees. Some have cuts to their bodies and some are dreadfully thin. So weak that they do not even shy away from her as she bends and peers into each cage. 

She feels sorry for them, but staring at them and softly reassuring them won’t do much on its own she knows. She gets a small camera out of her bag and takes a few snaps. Once she is finished she lingers a moment, not wanting to leave them, but the longer she stays the likelier it is that she will be caught and she _knows_ such a thing. 

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” she murmurs to them, hoping that they know that whilst their plight _won’t_ be over with tonight it more than likely will be soon. 

She tears her gaze away from them all and moves quickly towards the door. Fletchling, who has been visiting the Pokémon as well, flies rapidly to be back by her side again, almost using her body as a target. 

Gathering herself together she presses her ear to the door for a few moments, before she steps out. Without noticing anything more than the light that is on in the corridor she turns back again, so that she can close the door as silently as she is able to. 

The first sign that something is wrong is when Fletchling gives a cheep by her ear and then falls suddenly silent. She makes to look at him, but as she turns her head someone grabs her clothing by her shoulder-firmly and enough to shock her, but _not_ enough to bruise-and covers her mouth with their other hand. She struggles and tries to yell through it, but is forced into the room, which she’d just come from. 

Once they are all inside of it her attacker lets go of her and pushes her forwards. She stumbles and then whirls around before she has barely regained her balance.

_“Emmy?”_ Shock floods into her eyes and do the same to the tall man opposite, who has black hair, brown eyes and is dressed smartly with a dark brown suit, white shirt and soft pink tie beneath a lighter brown coloured trench coat. 

_“Ray?”_ he whispers, his voice grazing the floor as he seems barely able to believe his eyes. “What are you, a face from my past, _doing_ here? Not just in the shelter, but in the city too and in this very region? No”-he shakes his head-“It is the fact that you are _in_ the shelter that concerns me at the present. You have no uniform, so you-but you _could_ have also”- 

“No, I do not work here,” she says to cut off all the quick thoughts and wrong conclusions that he is coming to because of them. [It is bad enough when _her_ mind does such a thing, but she knows from experience that his mind does it at _twice_ the speed.] She continues to stare at him. No _wonder_ Fletchling had barely made a noise when he’d seen the man. He might have viewed the _workers_ at the shelter as a threat, but her ex-partner, who he has _seen_ in photos that she owns? Not so much. No, he would be more _curious_ about him.


	3. Emile

“I am a private detective now,” she tells the man whose ears have reddened from her nickname, ‘Emmy,’ but whose _proper_ name is Emile. His eyebrows rise, but he does not make a particular comment about what she has just said. “Aren’t you going to say a word to me about my job?” 

“I will at some point,” he tells her, “But this is not the moment for it. We are in too much danger and _that_ is what troubles me now, troubles me as much as trouble itself does in fact, _not_ what you have just said. We need to leave this place at once.” He grabs at her arm and pulls her to him. She breathes in the scent of mint and earth. She hadn’t been sure if she’d ever smell it again and it brings back happy, as _well_ as sad memories. She also feels relief that it had been _him_ and no one else who had found her in that moment. “Your Pokémon is brave enough to fight if someone should come?” 

“You don’t-?”

“No.”

“But what about-?”

Emile’s brow furrows and his eyes scrunch up as if he is experiencing sudden pain. She looks at him in concern. “We need to get out of here. It is not safe enough to talk about such things at the present.”

She feels confused and wonders what had happened to Croagunk, who had been Emile’s most trusted partner, but when Emile tries to cover her more with his body, she _does_ take offence, even though, in her heart she realizes that he is probably only doing it because of their shared history and how he _remembers_ her being when they were together. “You should probably be getting behind me.” He looks at her. “If it is _my_ Pokémon that we have as our only defence-?” Emile is embarrassed, but he nods and allows her to move ahead all the same. Fletchling’s wings brush against the older detective’s cheek. Emile shivers, but stays close to them both, wondering what will happen because of Ray’s presence and vaguely wondering whether he will get the answers that he seeks, but largely trying to stay focused on the present. 

Ray listens for a moment by the door, before she cracks it open. Her body low she creeps down the silent and eerie corridor. Fletchling stays close by her side and Emile follows them.

Ray returns them to the room, which she’d entered the building from. She turns to catch the fact that a straightened Emile is staring at the window dubiously. _She_ might have been able to wriggle through it, but he’s not sure if _he’ll_ be able to. “How did you get in?” she’s curious. 

He glances at her. “I will meet you outside”- He feels a little nervous about her presence. 

“The Pokémon Center. _That’s_ where I’m staying,” she interrupts. “The one on”- but she doesn’t get a chance to say anything more, for he gives her a swift nod and whirls around. His coat flaps in that impressive way that she’d once admired. 

“Fletchling, go with him,” she instructs, a little annoyed about Emile’s impatience, but at least knowing how to remedy it. The bird Pokémon looks at her uncertainly for a moment, before he does as she’d commanded him to and flaps quickly to catch up with the man. She doesn’t know _what_ had happened to Croagunk, but if he doesn’t have any strong Pokémon with him then he _could_ get into trouble. _She,_ however, is closer to an exit. 

She looks at the windowsill determinedly and pulls herself up. She hears a sharp voice, which comes from behind her, but is through the window and crouching on the ground, before anything can be done to her. She runs to the Pokémon Center. 

There is not much time for her to think, but she frets that Emile will have been caught and that, as strong as Fletchling _is,_ he won’t be able to win against the darker forces that are inside the shelter. What if Fletchling is put inside one of the cages? She tells herself that even if that _did_ occur then she’d get him back and steps through the electronic doors of the Pokémon Center with a breathless determination about her. 

Emile and Fletchling are nowhere in sight. 

She considers the fact that they might have gone to the _wrong_ Pokémon Center, but is _sure_ that Fletchling would have led Emile to the right one. That was if they hadn’t already been parted…

“Ah, Ray. Can I get you anything?” Nurse Joy calls over to her. 

Ray starts to tell her that it is fine, before she changes her mind and orders two coffees’. By a table she gets out Fletchling’s food-she’d gone straight out after dinner and _hadn’t_ returned the food to her room as she usually would have done-and has just poured an adequate amount into a dish when Nurse Joy joins her. “Oh, thanks Nurse Joy,” she says as the woman carefully deposits the coffees’ on the table. 

“Is everything all right?” Nurse Joy looks at her concernedly.

“Mm,” Ray answers distractedly.

“Are you waiting for someone?” the nurse catches her as she looks towards the door.

Ray’s heart beats unevenly. She is about to reply when the doors slide open and Emile and Fletchling come stumbling and flapping through. They both look around and she sees an instant relief fill Emile’s eyes when his gaze falls upon her. Motivated they begin to head across. 

“I’ll leave you to it.” Nurse Joy sounds more satisfied by the sight of them and touches at Ray’s shoulder. She goes back to her post.

“Good.” Emile looks her up and down. “No harm has come to you.” She pushes the coffee towards him and praises and pets Fletchling, before directing him towards the food. He digs in with gusto, having earnt the reward. 

“Did you get away all right? Someone saw me as I left,” she relates. “I heard a voice, but I didn’t catch sight of who it was.”

“No trouble did follow us. Do you think that they might have recognized you for whatever reason?” He stares hard at her, all his motion postponed.

“Maybe…but I don’t think so. It was hard to tell really,” she confesses, “I was busy with trying to get away.”

He makes a harrumphing noise in his throat, sheds his coat and flings it over the back of the bench, before he sits down. She sits down next to where Fletchling is eating. “Are you _truly_ in”-he looks furtively around-“The career that you stated? Or are you _trying_ to help because you care?” 

“What I said _is_ true,” she says as he sips at his coffee. “I _needed_ to find out a bit more about what it was like. To step into your shoes, at _least_ for a little while”-

“That could have been dangerous Ray,” Emile frowns, seemingly taking what she has just said in a harsher way than she thinks is necessary. 

“I know, but it had to be done.” She sees some uncertainty upon his face and tries to reassure him through saying, “I’ve enjoyed it though, the more that time’s gone on.” She pauses and he smiles, albeit in a reluctant way. “In this particular case I’m acting on a tip that I received about Pokémon being mistreated in that shelter. I didn’t _think_ that it would be a matter for the International Police”-again Emile looks around-“But I’m _glad_ if you’re on the case as well.”

“It is better if you do not mention _who_ I work for, whilst in this region,” he tells her, “Better too that you call me by my code name. I am pretending to be a grim private detective with a hard-boiled heart, whilst I am here.” 

“You are _primarily_ looking into the shelter for your cover then?” she asks him. 

“I thought if I could _further_ bring peace into any matters, whilst I am here”-

“Of course.” She sips at her coffee. Normally herself she would not go _beyond_ what her client wanted, not _only_ because it is simpler and safer for her in the long run, but because it is more secure financially [she doesn’t earn a lot through her job and so has had to prioritize] but this case is the _first_ one where she is tempted to do more and can fully understand what Emile is now telling her. She doesn’t understand _why_ she feels like that however. She has been fine with leaving things alone in the past and all her clients have never been anything _but_ satisfied. Augustine’s face pops into her head. She frowns. 

“Why do you look so troubled?” 

“It’s just I met someone when I was working on this case”-

“A _partner?”_

“Something like that. What happened to Croagunk?” She tries to hope for the best. “He hasn’t gone off _gambling_ somewhere, has he?”

“I am not sure that I wish to discuss it.” Emile studies his coffee. She misses _quite_ how uncertainly he does it. “In any case _people_ can make good partners as well,” he says. “I am fortunate to have someone I can call that at the moment. I have found myself also a young protégé. I hope that she might become a good detective one day. Maybe you could tell me about your _own_ partner and why they trouble you so?” He looks at her. “That is unless you feel you have _concluded_ your role and done _enough_ for your client? Before you wrap things up, however, perhaps you wouldn’t mind _sharing_ the name of who set you on this case? I had an anonymous tip. If you did not-if, in actual fact, you _saw_ who it was-then I would be glad to have more information from you. I would _also_ be glad to have any information that you have gleamed so that an arrest can be made through the official channels.” His gaze takes on a new level of seriousness. “Any information that you have-the responsible thing for you to do would be to pass it on. We detectives-pretence or otherwise-are mere cogs in a wheel Ray. I’m sure that you know by now that _eventually_ you have to surrender to the system?” 

“I do,” she admits, “Which is why I need to give this to you.” She rummages through her bag, digs out her camera and passes it to him. “It’s the evidence I got tonight of the abused Pokémon that I saw.” 

“That was quick thinking,” Emile praises her and looks pleased by the camera. “Hopefully they will come out well. I must thank you for your efforts. I have something _else_ that might be able to be paired in _addition_ to what you have collected.” He delves into his pocket now and brings out a couple of small, white containers that appear, on the surface, to contain medicinal drugs. “I know, from experience, what that medicine is meant to look like and it does not match up with what is inside here. Fletchling and I found them on our way out.” He looks approvingly at the bird Pokémon. “He is well-suited for this work I think. Maybe Nurse Joy”-he glances at the woman thoughtfully-“Can examine them and write a short statement for us about the effects that they might have on a Pokémon?” 

“Yes, that would be good. I can ask her.” 

“I will leave that with you then and I will pass the camera along and get it back to you, but what led you to all of this? Who? _Who_ was your source Ray?”

As she explains, confessing her source-the name of which makes Emile’s eyebrows rise again-and her feelings, particularly the ones that she’d had that day with Augustine, both _during_ and around their shelter visit and her guilt about keeping things from him come out. It becomes obvious to her, _not_ only to Emile, that she is conflicted because she has _fallen_ for Augustine, not just his good looks, but what he has revealed to her so far about his personality. With such a thing being so plain it silences her and Emile looks at her knowingly. 

“Far be it from me to have to tell you that you have backed yourself into a corner with the professor,” Emile says. “A corner that is tight and small and if you weren’t _already_ co-operating and hadn’t _already_ begun the transition to handing the case over to the International Police then I would feel pressurized to _make_ you do such a thing. You have become emotionally compromised.”

“Mm. What did _you_ do in order to get into the shelter tonight?” She can barely believe the truth herself, but _knows_ it to be the case-the way that she has been torn, the fact that this case for her has been for her like no other one and effected her on an emotional level that she has not experienced previously and the odd reactions of her body too, not _only_ her mind. Her heart beats unevenly just at the very _thought_ of Augustine and she is aware of such a thing _more_ now. 

“For a start off I did not have to get anyone else involved. So there was no risk of me becoming _too_ much so as you have done.” He looks at her a little disapprovingly. “To get to walk around the shelter-which was a sensible precaution of yours”-

“I didn’t want to go in blind.”

Emile nods. “I merely acted like I wanted to find myself a new companion, which was closer to the truth.” _Again_ she wonders what had happened to Croagunk. “I did such a thing two days ago.” He hesitates. “You have made things all the _more_ difficult by rushing in because of your compassion.” 

“I didn’t _rush_ into anything because of Augustine,” she is a little indignant. “It was _always_ my plan to suggest to him, if possible, that trainers he knows could assist the situation by adopting the Pokémon.”

“That is my point _exactly_ though,” Emile says, “Your compassion for the Pokémon _has_ in fact led you astray in this instance, before we even _get_ into your complicated feelings for the professor. The Pokémon are _evidence,”_ he tells her gently, before he goes on to explain, “For all we know they might be starting to _abuse_ the Pokémon, whilst they are on display and _then_ hiding them when their condition deteriorates. Any official logs of when each Pokémon came in will _also_ help us to work out such a thing and it is the finding of them that I will be prioritizing when an official search takes place.”

“I am sorry, I”- Ray begins to worry that she has messed everything up.

Emile lifts a hand. “I know you would have had no bad intentions.” He sighs. “This is why it pays to be more of a grim-faced detective like the one _I_ am pretending to be. You should have done my class in detective and espionage skills: _‘The Looker method: Yes, even YOU can become a detective in five easy steps!’_ I would have had _you_ do it if I had _known_ about your interest in my work.” He gets a look on his face, as if he is wondering about something for a moment, before he seems to realize that he is going off track. “We will have to go and see the professor and get a list of anyone that he might have told. You are sure that he _has_ told people?” he checks with her. 

“Yes.” She nods. “He even informed the Champion of this region.” 

“Then the matter is an urgent one.” He swallows down the rest of the coffee and replaces the cup back on the table with a satisfying thunk. He gets up and puts a hand upon her shoulder. “Do not feel bad about all this. Your compassion _is_ an useful tool, but you have to pair it with logic. Logic that can only come with experience and time.” 

She returns her Pokémon and cleans up after him, informs Nurse Joy that she’s going out again and asks her if she wouldn’t mind analyzing the drugs. Nurse Joy can _tell_ that something of the utmost importance is going on and agrees to her request immediately. 

“We must proceed cautiously,” Emile says as they make their way with haste to the lab. “We do not want to scare him away from giving us the list. Getting it should be our priority.” 

Ray hums, a little nervous about seeing Augustine again considering what she has just realized. Emile eyes her. She wonders if they did not know one another, if she had _not_ been so honest with him about her guilt just now, whether he would be _tempted_ to ask her to try and flatter the professor-the gossip in magazines about Augustine _cannot_ have escaped him, after all-in order to try and get what they want. Thankfully, however, he _knows_ better than to try and subject her already unsteady feelings to that and they proceed to the lab in silence. 

“This is the place?” Emile asks and they pause to look at the building. Green lines all the windows and doors and two Poké Ball topped pillars mark the path that leads up to the lab’s entrance. 

_“Yes,”_ she says, and he squeezes supportively at her shoulder again, before he swoops inside. She follows him and allows him to take charge with the receptionist-he does not show his I.D or give his _true_ identity away, but says that it is a vital matter and must be dealt with at once. The receptionist rings up Augustine and they are allowed to proceed.

They take the elevator silently to the floor where Augustine’s office is located and Emile then gestures that she should lead the way around the partition wall. 

“Ray, I was not expecting you right now, but I thought that you would come eventually. The receptionist did not mention, however…did you _not_ check in with her?” 

“You _knew_ that I would be coming?” she asks as Augustine rises from his desk chair and looks _far_ more serious than Ray had _thought_ he would from seeing her.

“Oui. I received a message from the shelter not so long ago…they told me that someone who they _believed_ to be you had broken in there and was seen fleeing the scene. I tried to get hold of you on the Holo Caster, but there was no answer.” There wouldn’t have been because she hadn’t taken the device with her. “I do not understand-was it a mere _impatience_ on your part to free the Pokémon? Or is there something _more_ to all of this?” Emile joins them. 

As soon as Emile _looks_ at the other man he gets an uncomfortable prickling sensation in the back of his mind, like he has borne witness to him _before_ in some way and not just in what he has seen idly browsing through Serena’s gossip magazines-some of which she’d left behind at the Bureau-whenever he gets stuck on a case. 

“This is Looker,” Ray, having noticed that Emile has gotten immersed in his own mind, introduces him via his code name. 

“I am from the International Police,” Emile wakes up enough to add, deciding to be more honest in the hope that the professor will _also_ share more truths with them that way. He is uncomfortable regarding the feeling that he’d had about the man and that makes him unwilling to be as friendly as he’d intended to be with him. His protectiveness over Ray _also_ makes him feel uneasy with regards to the new light that he is viewing the man in. He wishes that he could _remember_ whatever is nagging at his brain. 

“I see,” Augustine says. He keeps his eyes mainly on Ray. “And has he arrested you?”

“No.”

“Did you perhaps use _my_ presence with you earlier to try and save some face? Make it look as if _I_ had pushed you into your actions tonight? I did no such thing mon ami.” He looks at the detective imploringly. 

_“Why_ do you act so defensive, my friend? Is guilt haunting you? Guilt can make us do funny things,” Emile muses, “It can serve to worsen an _already_ interesting reputation.” He remembers where he had seen the other man now. He had been working at the Bureau late one night, not long after he’d first arrived in Kalos. He’d been doing so, not at his desk, but in the little nook with its comfortable seating that they often talk to clients in. It had gone _past_ the hour for formality and Emma, his protégé, had been asleep by that point, so he had _not_ had to set a good example for her. A group of women had fluttered past the window suddenly, laughing and being loud. He had looked up and seen the silhouette of a man in their centre against the blinds. He now recognizes the man as Augustine and feels all the _more_ troubled about Ray being interested in such a sort. 

“There is nothing I feel guilty about.”

_“No?”_

“Non. Why are you here?” he directs some of his words towards Ray, before he again turns his attention to the detective. “Am I to be some sort of _witness_ to this woman’s character? We have not known each other for long. All I know is what she has told me-that she is a journalist. I have to say that it is _most_ unusual that you would try and recruit me with the suspect before us.”

“She is not being investigated. Neither is Ray a journalist,” Emile tells him. “She is a private detective”-

“So it is one rule for you sorts of people”-Augustine waves a hand at them-“And another for everyone else.” He quickly covers over the slight shock he feels at Ray being a private detective. 

“I do not know why you class us differently. We are human. The same as the people on the other side of the divide that you would have us stand on. Ray albeit is different to the types that you have spent time with _before_ I’d imagine.”

“I like women who are educated, so maybe she is _not_ so strange to me,” Augustine only gets angrier. “What is going on here? Am I being arrested by the pair of you? Simply because of _who_ I spend time with? If so then yes, Ray, you _are_ different. You do not live up to your name.” As he looks at her Ray is tempted to bow her head, but just about manages to hold his gaze. “You might not have been _lying_ about wanting to ask me about Lysandre, but perhaps you lured me in under false circumstances all the same, no?” he accuses. “Maybe I upset a friend of yours. I do not remember without you telling me, a sister perhaps”-he looks her up and down appraisingly-“I am sorry if I have done, but right now I am grieving, this is not the _time_ for your revenge. For you to come here, with this man”- 

“No, Augustine-We are _not_ investigating you, about anything.” She feels angry about what Emile has said and the damage that he might have caused. What happened to being _cautious?_ Instead he seems to have only stirred Augustine up against them and they’ll be lucky now if Augustine tells them what they want. 

“Then _why-?”_

“Because there are things that I need to tell you.” She pauses for a moment. _“Now,”_ she looks at him imploringly, “Are you going to let us speak or are you going to kick us out of here? It is _your_ choice Augustine.” She lets him decide. 

Augustine looks between them for a moment, but the pair of them are wearing _equal_ gazes of determination. “Perhaps the pair of you should take a seat?” His shoulders slump and he swallows a little. “I will-er-call someone to make us drinks. Oui. That is what I will do.” He gestures, suddenly the good host. 

“We do not need any.” Ray tells him promptly, before she takes a seat. Emile joins her. 

“What is it that you need to say?” Augustine is business-like, but there is something _uneasy_ in his stare as he looks at Ray. 

“I wanted to get in the shelter, that is the truth, but so that I could go back there tonight. I wanted to help the Pokémon. I _never_ lied about that”-

“No,” Augustine murmurs quietly after a short hesitation, “When I looked into your eyes I did not think that you were.” Emile looks relieved and Ray feels encouraged by the fact.

“I was investigating the idea that Pokémon might be being abused in the shelter. It turns out that Looker here was peeking into the same thing. Between us we have hopefully collected enough evidence to validate my theory.”

Augustine feels a sense of disappointment. He cannot help it. Yet instead of voicing such a thing in that moment-and because it feels like such a _private_ feeling between him and Ray-he allows the male detective to speak: “Whilst we are passing information on and the official channels are preparing to act, it is better that things stay much the same as they are now as possible. We would be most grateful to you if you could provide a list of everyone that you have contacted about the matter. That way I will be able to have a quiet word with them and ask if they can please hold off on any adoptions for the time being.”

“I was told to get in contact with my friends by _Ray,”_ he looks at her uncertainly and she feels _grateful_ for the show of loyalty, but decides to tell him the truth all the same.

“I messed up Augustine. I was trying to alleviate some of my _own_ guilt when I should have been looking at the integrity of the investigation and the long-term importance of doing such a thing. Important evidence could have been _lost_ because of me.”

“I do not think that you got your priorities all that wrong,” Augustine is grudging.

“You are most kind.” Ray stares at him with glossy eyes. She seems to be seeking his forgiveness. Augustine looks back at her indecisively.

“The _list?”_ Emile reminds everyone. 

“Oh, oui.” Augustine finds a spare scrap of paper on his desk and scribbles down a few things with a standard biro quickly, before he passes it to the man that he knows as Looker. Emile tuts. In the end, and because of the bigger emotional things that are going on, it had not been _hard_ to get the information from the man at all. Emile can’t help but wonder at what _cost_ it will come to Ray, however. 

“I will leave for a moment so that I can make these calls. _Ray?_ Do you want to come and assist me in the matter?” 

“I will stay and talk with Augustine for a moment, if that is all right Looker? I am _sure_ that you can manage with the calls.” Her mind is made up.

It is _not_ all right, but with Augustine not protesting either, Emile doesn’t have much choice. He clambers to his feet and causes the chair to squeak, before he departs for the other side of the partition wall. 

There is an awkward silence between Ray and the professor for a moment. 

“That man, he has been in his career too long, don’t you think? He has a suspicious heart,” Augustine twirls a hand. 

“He is just trying to keep the case going, in _spite_ of the action that I have done,” she defends Emile and wonders if she should be fully honest with Augustine. “Am I forgiven?” she tries to gauge whether she should.

Augustine seems to think on the thing for a moment. “I might have done the _same_ in your situation. Who is to know? What angers me is…you did not treat me any differently from how any one _else_ would have done, not when it came down to it”- Her heart sinks and she looks off to the side. She decides that now might _not_ be the right time to tell him everything. She fears his reaction and if he cannot even cope with _this…_ “You did not trust me with the _truth.”_ His eyes crackle with something dark and quiet as they lock gazes. “All through my life I”-he bows his head, his hands fidget upon his lap and he blows out a long, low breath-“All through my life people just see the outgoing side of me. The _enthusiasm_ that I present them with. It does not matter that I have become a professor. That I take my work seriously. They just choose to see one side of me. Maybe it is just what appeals to them? The friendly not the stern? But I would quite like it if they _realized_ that there are other parts to me as well. I would have quite liked it if _you_ had trusted me, even solely because of my position. I would have liked to have _helped_ you, to have been given that chance in a more _honest_ fashion than I was. I was worried about the Pokémon’s well being. I told you as much. That, that was a priority for me. I could not have made it _any_ clearer,” he says. “You talk of that man and you being a team, of all the _evidence_ that you managed to procure when that could have been us. It _should_ have been us Ray, doing that together.” She tries to push down how much _she_ would have liked that as well.

“I was trying to protect you”- she attempts. 

“From _what?”_ Augustine is indignant. “The _worst_ has already happened to me!” He throws his hands in the air. “I have _lost_ my best friend”- his voice cracks. 

“From the _case_ Augustine!” She gets to her feet suddenly, pushing down on the desk with her hands and panting hard. “You do not know how these things work.” She tries to calm down and straightens her back. 

“I suppose you thought that you were doing the best thing for it?” She nods; glad if he is starting to become more reasonable. “But what is the _case_ compared to the health of Pokémon and the feelings of people? If you push both of those things down then you are _forgetting_ who you should be doing it all for. Are you on a path to becoming as cold as the man out there? Because I don’t think you _want_ to become like that Ray.” He gestures with a hand towards the partition wall, but carries on to look at her. She hates the arrogance that his gaze bestows her with in that moment. The knowledge that he seems to have that he is _right_ when it comes down to it. 

“That man out there?” She gestures behind the partition wall as well. _“He_ is struggling too, Augustine! It is not just _you!_ I do not know what happened to his Pokémon partner, but”- 

“I have completed my task,” Emile’s curt voice comes from behind her. “Is everything all right in here?” She swivels around and they meet eyes. Some of the colour drains from her face. 

“Yes, of course.” 

He knows a lie when he is being told one and he looks between them. “If you are finished then I will walk you back to the Pokémon Center. As beautiful as this city is there are few places that I trust at night”- 

“I can do that Monsieur.” Augustine gets to his feet immediately. _“Besides”-_ he brushes down his lab coat-“Ray and I need to discuss our dinner arrangements for tomorrow evening.” Emile looks surprised. Ray can tell that he’s thinking that she left _that_ part out of their discussion earlier, but it is not something that has been on her mind at _all_ that much that evening. There had been _other_ matters to deal with. “That is, if you are still able to manage it?” He looks at Ray, _bold,_ but appealing and she detects that he is ultimately sorry for letting things get so heated between them. 

“Yes, we should still do that.” _She_ cools down as well. 

Her answer seems to give him more confidence. “In that case then, detective, and if there is nothing _else?”_ He looks at the man he knows as Looker a little bit challengingly.

“Only to wish the pair of you a good evening.” Emile looks at Ray warningly, before he bows his head. They allow him to take the elevator first. 

“You will have to forgive me for earlier,” Augustine tells her, as they wait for the elevator to return. 

“Me as well. I am very sorry for not trusting you with the case. For not seeing the _full_ amount that you could have helped with it.” 

“People can do well if you give them a chance,” he reminds her. 

They step inside the elevator when it arrives. 

Ray’s heart beats unevenly. They are close enough that she can smell the scent of him, but there is a distance between them. It makes her feel anxious. 

It is possible that _he_ feels it as well, for he places a hand upon her back as they exit the elevator. They move past where the receptionist is still at work-she glances up at them, but if she is surprised then at the very _least_ knows better than to show it by now and goes back to work-and out of the confines of the lab.

The cool air seems to embrace them as they walk together to the Pokémon Center and they walk in silence for a little while, _both_ with their own thoughts about what had happened previously.

“You know, I _am_ looking forward to tomorrow,” Augustine declares, possibly trying to be optimistic as the Pokémon Center becomes visible to them at last and wanting to leave her on a better note. 

_“Why_ is that?” Ray is curious and wanting to be _hopeful_ herself.

“It has been a _long_ time since I will have eaten a meal with _such_ interesting company. Oui, I am most looking forward to it.” He stops when they are standing just before the entrance of the Pokémon Center, albeit at a distance enough so that the doors don’t slide open automatically. He turns to her, cupping at her elbows.

“I am as well,” she replies, though she steps back enough so that his hands drop down from her. She _hopes_ that he won’t try and talk to her about her work again and _also_ feels like she can’t be close to him when she is _still_ hiding something that is so significant. “Goodnight Augustine.”

“Goodnight Ray.”


	4. Visions of the Future

The next morning it is _Emile_ who is waiting for her when she descends from the stairs in the Pokémon Center. 

He calls her over; more with the serious look he gives her than with any gesture.

She wearily sits opposite him and is allowed to do her usual breakfast routine with Fletchling and have some orange juice, before he says anything.

“I must confess to wondering if we’d have _further_ company this morning.” He gives a dark look to the stairs.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Is that what it is? Or is it logic and a simple deduction? I knew that you had developed a great affection for him. That you cared and perhaps wanted to protect him. But I had not realized, and you _failed_ to make it plain to me, the level of which you have already become involved with one another.” She opens her mouth, ready to protest, but he silences her through lifting one finger. “He walked you back here last night, claiming that you had a date with him today, even after the pair of you had clearly rowed so terribly. Now, I don’t think that is something that the pair of you cooked up together last night, so it must be a thing that you would have already known about when we talked ourselves. You deceived me Ray. You made me believe that your feelings had been kept to you alone when you had shared them with him”-

“That is not the case. Augustine is probably just trying to be friendly.” Emile looks at her pointedly. “I have not told him.”

“Then perhaps it would be best for you _not_ to.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” 

Emile sighs. “This man, as I pointed out last night has a history Ray. A history with the women”- she does not know whether she is growing red because of what he has said or the _way_ in which he has said it.

“It was wrong of you to do what you did.” Emile opens his mouth. “No, it was. You embarrassed me. I know you’re going through your own things, but”-

“I do not think that this man is right for you.” She makes a derisive sound in her throat and he sighs. “All I am saying”-he lifts his palms so that they face her in his defence-“Is that this man, this professor, his grief combined with who he is…He is not in a good place Ray. I fear that his burdens will become yours and I do _not_ want to see you getting hurt.” 

“I know what I am doing”-

“Do you? Do you even _know_ whether you are going to tell him the entire truth as of yet? Because I don’t think he would have still been in agreement about tonight if he’d known the full reality. He seemed in a bad enough state as it was.”

“I’ll see how he reacts then when I tell him tonight”-

“And what if he decides that he does not want to be with you?” 

“That is _his_ decision.” Her ex-partner sighs. “What is it?” she questions him. 

“I only think that there are easier ways of getting what you want,” he says.

“And what _is_ that Emile?” Her eyebrows rise. He looks around, but she protests about having to use his code name when it is only them. 

“I-I seem to remember that you wanted a partner who would be there for you?”

“Of course.” She feels a little irritated by how he’s phrased the thing. “That was one of the reasons why we broke up”-

“It _was?”_ He clutches at her hand suddenly. She looks at him in confusion. “I didn’t hurt you?” 

“No, I wanted to become more independent. I felt as if I had more to-Why can’t you remember?” 

He swallows and grasps hold of her hand a little more tightly. As he looks down he explains, “There was an accident Ray.” Their eye contact resumes. “When I was in Hoenn. I lost my memories for a time. Then some returned. I remembered myself, bits and pieces of Croagunk, _us_ being together…I did not remember that we were separated. Not to begin with,” he says, whilst she looks at him in horror. “Eventually it came to me that we must be, for even though I could not remember a way to contact you I felt in my heart that you would have tried to get in touch with me if we hadn’t have parted. I have been proved right since we met again. You have a kind heart.” He smiles at her. “I worry that it will get you into trouble however. Just like how I used to worry about how we might have split up. I worried that I might have damaged you and ruined your spirit. I can see now that I don’t have to be as worried about that and feel better if you are _truly_ telling me that we parted amicably.”

“We did,” she reassures him. “I am more independent now. I was beginning to feel that I wanted a bigger role when we were together and wanted to know what kept you so wrapped up in your job. I have seen that women are capable of so much and been inspired every day on the road. I no longer think that a partner who is always there for me is such an important thing. _That_ is why you should not worry about my compassion getting me into trouble or what Augustine may be like. Whatever he feels and wants to do I do not intend to be anyone’s partner alone and go back to those days. I want to travel and keep the life I have, no matter _who_ I am with. I like being on the open road with only the case to think of and Fletchling by my side. Can you remember feeling that way Emmy? When you had Croagunk?”   
Eyes full of pain, Emile looks away.   
“Oh Emmy.” She gets up, moves over to his side, crouches down and hugs him.  
His arms loop around her middle slowly.

“I can’t even recall how I lost him, that is why I have not been able to tell you. Isn’t that silly? I _know_ that he was important to me.”

“He was. He was your entire world I think.” She laughs a little and pushes her face into his shoulder, remembering how she had felt a little jealous of Croagunk at times, but how she had immediately understood when she had her _own_ partner Pokémon. “Croagunk meant an awful lot to you,” she re-iterates as she pulls away from him.

He takes her hand in his again. “I just want you to be happy.” He peers imploringly up at her.

“You do not need to feel responsible for my happiness Emile. Like we have established I am fine. Being with you allowed me to find myself, so you do not have to worry.”   
Emile looks relieved and lighter than she’s seen him do since they re-united. He rubs his thumb against the side of her hand, smiles steadily at her and she joins in.  
“I am sorry for what you have been through.” He nods. They continue to smile at one another and he continues the motion against her hand. 

At some point Fletchling chirps, which makes them laugh and let go of each other.

“I wish you all the luck for tonight.”

“I wish the same for you on your case with the International Police.” She nods, cleans and packs up Fletchling’s breakfast things, re-calls her Pokémon for the time being and gets up. She crosses over to Emile’s side again and bends down to peck him on the hair, glad that they’d cleared the air a little and hoping that they might be able to keep in touch _more_ with one another now.

*

A few hours later she finds herself in her room at the Pokémon Center, trying to decide what to wear for her meal with Augustine. Fletchling is perched on the edge of the wooden desk, which is beside the wardrobe. Ray has its doors open and her gaze is flitting from right to left hopelessly. She might have brought a fair few outfits with her, to be prepared for anything, as is her policy with every case that she takes on, but nothing she has in her wardrobe screams _date,_ which she is hoping that Augustine sees the meal as, in spite of what she might have told Emile. In one way though, that would make it _harder_ for her, as she will probably end up crushing his heart. She tries not to think about that too much in the present. The nicest dress she has turns out to have an old stain on its side from one of her previous cases and has grown a little thin and worn in the same area, so she has to dismiss that one immediately.

“What am I going to do?” 

In the end she decides to go in her usual attire. Augustine will just have to accept her as she is and she knows that she will feel more comfortable in her normal clothes as well. It will help with what she has been fretting about saying the entire day. 

She ends up at the lab a good few minutes before they’d decided to meet and almost tap dances with nerves in front of the same receptionist as before. The receptionist seems to be expecting her and directs her to one of the sofa’s that are off to the side, whilst she waits. She doesn’t even phone upstairs like she has done on the past times that Ray has been there and Ray feels grateful that she can get going sooner, even if it _is_ only to sit down. 

She perches there, doing a bit of people watching and gradually feeling more and more uncomfortable. Her mind gets worked up about what she needs to say and how Augustine might react to it-as much as she’d tried to put a brave face on in front of Emile she is aware that it _won’t_ be easy for her to move on from Augustine-and she fidgets with her clothes and her hands and wonders whether or not she should get Fletchling out for company- 

The feeling of a sudden presence makes her look up.

A woman with blue hair and an enquiring expression behind her glasses is standing there. Ray recognizes her as _Sophie_ -the woman that Augustine had made her tell her plan to before and the memory of his innocent enthusiasm for it makes her feel all the more uncomfortable.

“Ray,” she says with genuine warmth as soon as Ray looks at her. “Are you waiting for the professor?” Ray bows her head. “He won’t be a moment I’m sure. Why don’t I show you some of the things that are going on, on the second floor? Make your wait a little more interesting?”

*

Augustine stretches, flailing his arms in the air, before he pushes himself back from his desk. 

His eyes catch sight of the time.

_“Mon Dieu!”_ [The truth is that post-lunch he’d found it very hard to concentrate on anything _but_ the upcoming evening. Eventually however, and mainly because there had been a mix-up with a Pokémon food order he’d managed to bully his mind into paying attention and doing what he had to and had soon become immersed in re-ordering specialist food for some of the Pokémon at the lab and getting carried away with looking at the new product line. Soon the time had flown away from him.]

He hurries from his seat. He is already half-an-hour late. He decides to check to make sure that Ray has arrived [if not then he will hurry to his apartment above the lab and get changed.] He makes an attempt to flatten his hair as he trots downstairs.

She is already there. He spots her at once. He notices that she is in her usual attire and feels vulnerable for about half-a-second, wondering if she has deemed their date-he doesn’t question whether that’s what it is or not-to not be an important one, before he soon gets swept up in the expression that is on her face-one of pure joy-and finds that the issue of her clothing does not matter to him any more. 

Sophie is in the middle of talking her through an experiment that two other members of the lab are in the middle of conducting. Ray looks fascinated by it and as if something child-like has risen inside of her. He has never _seen_ her look so enraptured before and he wishes that she would gaze at _him_ in that way.

“Oh look, Augustine is here now,” Sophie spots him.

Ray tears her gaze away from the experiment. There is a moment of furrowed concentration as she finds him and then a small smile comes over her face. There is something reluctant about it, however, and like she is _still_ holding her feelings back from him. It makes Augustine feel ill at ease. 

“I am sorry that I am in my day clothes.” He joins them nonetheless. “Time snuck up on me.” 

“Oh-well”- she gestures to her _own_ attire. Sophie draws back a little to give them more privacy.

“You like science?” he questions Ray. She nods and that gives him an idea. “Then you should follow me.” He grabs her by the arm, throws Sophie a quick smile of gratitude for her help in entertaining Ray-the lab assistant nods at him encouragingly-and steers Ray into the elevator. He lets go of her once they are inside. “I take it that you do not mind us _not_ going to the restaurant that I thought of?” He likes to think that Ray can be spontaneous, but some of the people who he has dated in the past have complained when plans have had to be changed and he doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her, particularly because of the opportunity he believes has just opened in front of him in making her see reason with regards to her job. 

“Did we miss our reservation time?” 

“Non.” He presses one of the elevator buttons.

“Are neither of us are dressed suitably?”

“Non it is not that. As much as I enjoy going to restaurants, even sampling food, whilst I walk around this beautiful city, I have something, which I think will be _far_ more suitable considering what you’ve just told me and we’ll be perfectly dressed for where we are going.” She must still look confused, for he chooses to further explain, “I want you to see the beauty of what science can create Ray, but first I would like you to close your eyes.” 

She looks at him as if she’s wondering what he is up to, but finds herself obeying him all the same. Her ears become more sensitive. She is aware of her breath and his. Aware of the light pressure that he is applying to her arm as he moves slightly behind her. The elevator doors open. He guides her gently forward. She feels the space, as it increases. More colour presses against her eyelids as if it wants to climb inside her very body. 

“You may look ma chérie.”

Her eyes open and she lets out a gasp. The space beneath the lab is beautiful. Different types of environment, but predominantly grassland, stretch out before them. She cannot see where it ends. Bird Pokémon fly in a man made sky. Young Pokémon chase one another. Others snuffle in the grass or sit in groups. Some even wade in the water that is there. 

“You like it?” Augustine queries, but he is smiling because the answer is obvious to him. She nods her head enthusiastically. “Science made nature and Pokémon and so it allowed my team and I to re-create the _perfect_ environments for each one of our friends here.” He links her arm with his and leads her to a free space in the grass. He releases her to take off his lab coat and they sit down on it [Ray is initially reluctant to do such a thing, but he gestures that it is okay for her to and that doing so won’t mess up his coat all that much.] Before they can look at one another a group of Flabébé take off into the air around them. Ray exclaims in astonishment. In front of the setting sun, which are meant to mimic the one outside, Augustine’s eyes are half-lidded as he gazes at her, _torn_ between watching her and the Pokémon and feeling happy as, caught up in the moment, she points and exclaims about how pretty they all are. He is glad that he has been able to provide the experience for her. “Tell me about your love for science,” he instructs when she has had her fill of looking at the Pokémon. 

“I used to love it at school. I-I felt pretty at home in the lab.”

“Then why didn’t you become a scientist?” he asks her. 

“Because it never even occurred to me that I _could.”_

“You thought that-?”

“Women had to be married and raise a family. I was taught that by my parents.”

“You and that man? The detective? You were together yes?” He tries to be brave as well and hold her expression, but this is something that he has been worried about and he can _feel_ his heart begin to thump unevenly inside of his chest as he waits for her answer. “Is _that_ the reason why you cannot seem to bring yourself to see what we could have here?” Her gaze turns curious. “I have been hinting madly,” he smiles indulgently at her. “You feel too awkward now that he has returned? Possibly bringing bad memories with him?” 

“We were together for a time yes,” she sounds hesitant. Augustine wonders about his chances with her and suddenly feels jealous of the greater amount of time that the detective has known her for. If he knew her as well as the other man then would _he_ be able to tell what she is thinking? Would _he_ know what ails her? Would they in turn, because of that, be able to move forwards and make more progress with one another? “And yes, there are some bad memories,” she confesses. “Looker was away a lot with his work. I begun to grow impatient and wanted to understand, but I could never. I had more and more thoughts about trying to do the job that I do. I wouldn’t have had the _confidence_ to be in the International Police, so this was the closest I could come to understanding and seeing our relationship more from his perspective. I never even had a Pokémon before that. Taillow was my first.” She wears a smile of pure nostalgia upon her face. 

“So good memories came from the bad?” 

“Mmmhmm. Maybe we might even be able to be friends now. I have enjoyed meeting him when we were able to discuss a case with one another and catch up. It made me realize how much I have changed. I feel better now about what happened between us.” 

“But even though you want to be friends are you ready to move on?” She swallows and as he sees her reluctance again he can tell that it is _more_ than her past relationship with Looker that keeps her from embracing a possible future with him. “Did someone _else_ hurt you? Are you still in pain from a different relationship?” 

“Non. I haven’t been able to have a proper relationship since Looker. I confess…” Her eyes trail to her hand, which is lightly fisted around some blades of grass.

“What is it? Do you-Do you not like me Mademoiselle? I had hoped that you agreed to come out with me tonight because you did, but if you do not, if you were in fact just being polite, then might I suggest that you be blunt with me? Sophie says that, that is sometimes what I need. Otherwise I do not give up as easily as the other partner might like. I get lost in my dreams.”

“Non. Non. I _do_ like you Augustine,” she says as she looks up at him earnestly, finally letting go of the grass. His heart flips over-at first from thinking that she is rejecting him and then from realizing that, that is not the case. “I have been conflicted, probably since we met, but most _definitely_ since we went to the shelter together.”

_“Why?_ I do not understand? Unless my outburst at the shelter made you think-?” He looks embarrassed.

“I have never _not_ thought you good enough for me Augustine. In fact it is the other way around”-

“I do not understand.” He looks at her like she is a difficult experiment that keeps bringing up unexpected results. “I thought I had been making my feelings most plain to you?”

“I-There is something that I need to tell you. I have not been completely honest.”

_“Ah.”_ He creates further distance between them and then stands up altogether. “This is becoming an unfortunate habit of yours Ray. I have been with many women in the past-perhaps _that_ is your problem?”

“Non. Everyone has a past.”

“I suppose they do.” He rakes a hand through his hair a little awkwardly. “But I have no intention to mess around with whatever takes my fancy again. Life is”- 

“Not long enough. Please sit down.” She gestures, but he refuses. _“Fine.”_ She huffs out a breath. “We will do it your way.” She gets to her feet as well.

_“So,”_ he says, as she faces him, “What is it that you have you not told me?”

She looks off to the side for a moment, as if hoping that there will be a step-by-step guide as to what is the best way to tell him. Of course there is nothing and she looks back at him. She swallows at the mildly impatient and accusing stare that he is giving her. “I-You were right, the case at the shelter was like a last gift from Lysandre to you because he was the person who gave me the tip.”

Augustine steps back from her. She is worried that he might be overcome by a sudden dizzy spell and may be prone to fainting. He just looks at her, for a moment, before he asks, “The case at the shelter? Lysandre told you about it? _He_ is the person who made you investigate it in the first place?”

“Yes.” He turns and staggers off. Feeling alarmed she calls after him, _“Augustine?”_

“I just need a moment, Mademoiselle.” He waves a hand carelessly at her and she sinks back onto the lab coat and watches him, as he moves further away, aiming for the babbling brook that is only a short distance away through the grass.

She swallows and turns her gaze down, only looking at him periodically. She wonders what his conclusions will be? Wonders if she should be trying to talk to him some more? He’d told her though that he’d needed a moment, hadn’t he? So she waits. She sits there until her legs get cramp and then she moves into a more comfortable position. She lingers until darkness has nearly fallen and there is a distinct chill in the air. At that point she sees Augustine’s shoulders beginning to tremble and rises instinctively, as if she has been waiting for that sight. She picks up the lab coat and shakes it off, before she makes her way across to him. He is still standing over the brook and looking down at it as if it is the lens of a microscope and holds all the answers. Once there she propels herself on her tiptoes just behind him and drapes the coat over his shoulders, before she moves closer to his side. He adjusts the coat absentmindedly. She wonders what she should say and where she should begin. Will Augustine _want_ her to go through the entirety of their meeting and what had been said? 

“It was just like Lysandre,” Augustine speaks suddenly, “To tell you about such a thing. I wish that _more_ people had been able to see that side of him. To see how he cared.”

“Oui, but I have to admit that I hesitated after Geosenge.”

“You are not the only one.” He looks at her. Is he talking about the gossip spreaders? Or confessing that even _he,_ in the dark moments that had initially come after the Geosenge incident and in the longest nights of his grief, had doubted his friend? “I knew he had his…his ways of getting carried away. You must not think me naïve about him, Ray. The thing was, I always seemed to be able to bring him back down from the ceiling whenever he went up there with his most sensational ideas. That was our way, when we weren’t _both_ getting carried away with one another of course.” He laughs suddenly, close to the boom, though she does not know it, of his late friend. “Sophie can tell you a few tales about us I am sure,” he says, before he looks incredibly solemn. “Aren’t you going to ask me?” he turns to her with his hands upon his hips.

“If you _knew_ about the genocide?”-

“He didn’t even tell me Mademoiselle. I swear it”- He waves his hands in the air, before he lets them fall back down to his side again.

“Then he didn’t want you to know because he _believed_ in the power of the pair of you as much as I can see you do now”-Augustine looks a little ashamed of himself-“There is nothing wrong with having faith in a friend Augustine. He didn’t tell you because he _knew_ that you would have persuaded him otherwise. That you were perhaps the _only_ person who could have.” Augustine looks guilty now. “And he didn’t want to. He didn’t _want_ to be persuaded on this Augustine, so you shouldn’t feel any guilt. You didn’t know. There was nothing that you could have done.” She allows him to take that in for a moment. “In any case I hesitated after Geosenge. I was about to come here when it happened. When it did and I heard of Lysandre’s involvement in it all I hesitated. I wondered if what he had told me was even true, if I should even bother, but I let more Pokémon suffer through not coming straight away.” 

“What made you come?” he asks her. 

“My love for Pokémon and my hatred for loose ends.”

He snorts and turns back to the brook. “That does not surprise me…your conviction in me however does.”

“Despite the short space of time that we have known each other for you have tried to look out for me. It makes sense to me that you would have done the same for Lysandre and the world at large had you known anything about his plans for genocide.” Once again he feels touched about her matter-of-fact thoughts regarding his personality. It is like maths or science, a simple equation to her, where everything adds up and there can be no room for doubt. 

“About you though, about your work”- He faces her more urgently, as he is reminded of what else he wishes to say to her. 

“Non Augustine”-

“Oui, we have to discuss this.” His hands clamp upon her waist. He does not want to let her down, like he feels he let Lysandre down when it comes down to it, in spite of the fact that what Ray has said is correct-he didn’t know and cannot be held responsible. “You believed that keeping that little piece of information was best for the case, yes?”

“Right, but I hated keeping it from you as soon as I saw the pain that you were in”-

“You should have _hated_ the idea from the very beginning,” he complains, “Not just when you saw that I was suffering.”

“But the case. I was only doing it for”- 

“I fear that your job is no good for you ma chérie. It makes you lose sight of what is important. Is it the one that you _really_ want to do?”

“What _else_ would I do Augustine? Work in the lab with you?” 

“Why ever not? You have never looked as happy as you did in the lab just now. I don’t think that you are as happy as you could be in your current profession. I think it drains you and is bad for your mental health.” 

“You don’t need to worry about me Augustine.”

“Do I not?”

_“Non,_ I am perfectly capable in my job.”

“Oui, I know.” She looks at him in confusion. “Don’t think that it hasn’t escaped my attention”-he gets a small smile about his face-“That Lysandre took the trouble to tell you about what was going on in the shelter, even _though_ you have never even been to this region before. I think you have been lying to me again.” He looks at her steadily now and she gets a little nervous, shifting her position. “I think your reputation precedes you, to those trying to find someone to tell their trouble to at least, which explains why I had never heard your name before”-

“I guess I have been to a fair few regions in my time,” she admits.

“And I think,” Augustine looks happier about her little confession, “That Lysandre, having done his research and looked you up, _knew_ that your kindness would lead you here, and to me, eventually.”

“You think that he _meant_ us to meet?” the thought almost takes her breath away.

Augustine shrugs and looks a little shyer. “Oui, I would like to think that he would have no objection to our meeting at the least.”

“But if you think that he meant you to _save_ me”- She does not want to be Augustine’s next project as deemed by Lysandre. Does not want their entire relationship to be based on Augustine doing what he thinks _Lysandre_ would have wanted him to. 

“I am not so sure what is so bad about being saved, but oui, I understand why you do not want me believing that I think, and I don’t. As I have said, I know how capable you are with your work. I believe that you could keep it going for many, many years, but do you _want_ to ma chérie? I remember that although you were pretending to have another job when we first met you described it as being upsetting. I do not think you were lying about that. I think you aren’t as emotionally suited to detective work as you would like to believe.” With his hands in his pockets he stares at her. “I also know how _alive_ you looked in the lab.” 

“Doesn’t it take years to become a scientist?” 

“It can do,” he acknowledges, “But I bet it does not take as long as you think.” With his eyes a little sultrier he adds, “You can be anything that you want to be.”

She looks away from him, feeling conflicted. She has _never_ been able to make big life choices just like that. “I-I am not so sure about what you are suggesting about my career, but _us”-_

“Is the secret that you have told me the _reason_ for you holding yourself back from me? Was it the only one that was left? You will keep nothing more from me?” he cuts off her fear with that of his own, thinking that they might be able to progress more quickly that way. 

“I won’t.”

“Then I want to be with you. _Tue?”_

“Et moi toi.” He gets a bit of a goofy smile about his face and she reddens. Only a beat passes though, before he says, “We should talk about you becoming a scientist.”

_“Augustine!_

“What?!”

“You are unstoppable.”

“Ma chérie, you may have heard that I was the youngest man to take on the role of professor for many, many years in this region, so I know one or two things.” He gives her a full on grin.

“Is that so?” She inches her face closer to his.

“Oui, and”- he breaks off when she kisses him, eyebrows rising and arms flapping in surprise for a moment, before he returns the gesture, tasting the sweet scent beneath her roughened lips and cupping her to him more supportively. She makes a small sound at the feel of his stubble. 

They part suddenly when they hear a canine Pokémon howling in the distance. 

“It is getting late. I better go,” Ray says regretfully in a breathy tone, as she slips down to stand more normally.

“But you becoming a scientist-?” 

“Not tonight Augustine.”

_“Non?”_

“Non.” She is already a few steps away from him and turns back to him with a smile, before she departs.

“She is still neglecting her confidence,” Augustine mutters to himself, suddenly determined to make all her dreams come true. “Still not seeing the person who she could _really_ be.”


	5. Taking Flight

The next morning Emile is out in the city when he receives a call on the Holo Caster.

“Mr. Looker, I think you need to return to the Bureau.” It is Emma, his young protégé. 

“What is it Emma? What is wrong?”

“There’s a man here. He’s requesting to see you. He looks…kinda important. He’s wearing a lab coat.”

There are not many men by that description that Emile knows. He realizes who it must be and his heart jumps a little in fear for Ray. 

“Ask him Emma. Why has he come?” he tries to put his more emotional feelings to one side.

Emma blinks and her hologram flickers silently for a moment. “He says that he has come to see you about Ray.” Emma must be curious, but she does not question him about who Ray is and he feels grateful for her in that moment. His stomach _does_ churn, however, at having his worst fears regarding the matter a step closer to being confirmed. 

“Very well Emma. Tell him that I will be there as quickly as I can. Offer him a drink in the meantime. Make him comfortable. Treat him like a guest.” 

Emma closes the connection.

She is a good kid, as long as she has focus and something to occupy her, Emile thinks. He is _pleased_ with the work that he has done with her so far.

He heads steadily back to the Bureau, avoiding going down the alleyways and increasing his pace the closer that he gets. He hopes that the professor has not _hurt_ Ray. He does not know how he will react if he has done-

He pushes the door to the Bureau open.

Augustine is dawdling around the desk that Emile uses and Emile feels uncomfortable. His most secret diary is near by, though it is impossible to tell, from such a distance, whether the professor has looked at it or not.

“Emma left to get some milk. She used the last of it for my tea.” He points to the now abandoned cup that is in the nook of the Bureau. “She seems like a bright sort. Maybe _she_ would make a good trainer one day?” 

“I am training her in the art of detective work.” Augustine nods; looking unsurprised, but a little saddened by the thing. “You decided to have a look around?” Emile tries to re-gain control.

“I was wondering about _this.”_ Augustine gestures to the framed photo that is upon Emile’s desk. “I wanted to know who was in it.”

“Perhaps you feared that _Ray_ would be?” Emile tries to cover up the fact that the photo contains Croagunk. He is trying to remember the Pokémon through having a daily reminder of what he looks like. 

“Non.” To Emile’s surprise Augustine shakes his head. “We have talked, Ray and I.”

“Then I am glad.” Emile’s back straightens to its full extent.

“We have shared with one another our feelings.”

“I hope yours were as positive as hers no doubt were?” Emile wants to know whether the man has hurt his friend or made a commitment.

“Oui, they were,” Augustine thankfully chooses to meet the situation with the seriousness that it deserves. “But there is still something that is not quite right.”

Emile folds his arms and quirks an eyebrow at the man. “You’d like _me_ to have a word with her?” he guesses, and any _gains_ that Augustine may have made with him in the last few moments tumble away.

“I would, but not about _me,”_ Augustine continues to surprise Emile. “Are you aware of her interest in science?”

Emile shakes his head and feels bad that he hadn’t, but the time he had mostly known her during had been different. _Ray_ had been different. He doubts that she would have had the _courage_ to show an interest in such a thing in front of him. Even though he had tried to be gentle with her, her own mind would have suppressed it no doubt.

“Well, she does. I have never seen her face light up as much as it did when she was in the lab with Sophie yesterday. It is her passion. What she _truly_ desires to turn into a career and I would like _you,_ mon ami, to show her that it is possible. You have known her for longer after all.” Emile opens his mouth to correct him. It is only more recently that Ray has become closer to being herself and to feeling more comfortable with who she is. With that explanation he has known her for the same amount of time as the professor, maybe a little less. After all it had been Augustine who had managed to detect her love for science. But it is also true that the talk Emile and Ray had, had the previous day had _seared_ with honesty. True that Ray might feel more comfortable talking about this to an _old_ love interest than a new one at first…Augustine sees the change in Emile’s features and utters, “I believe it will be for her own good,” pats him on the shoulder and leaves.

Emile is not done with him yet, however, and he rushes out after him.

A little down the street Augustine looks back.

“And what if, through her journey in science, she grows and decides that she does not want to be with you any more?” 

“Then I will be devastated,” Augustine says, as he turns around properly, and truly _does_ look mournful for a moment, before he seems to find some strength inside himself. “But that will be _her_ decision, mon ami. I will not try and force her to love me, if, in the end, it doesn’t come naturally for her. I respect and admire her too much for that.”

Emile looks consideringly at the other man for a moment. “You are a good sort,” he concludes, “With Ray’s best interests at heart. I wasn’t always _sure_ that, that was the case.” 

“I have made mistakes. I cannot deny it. Now I only wish Ray to experience the warmth of her name. I fear her current job is no good for her. It encroaches too much upon her light.”

Emile nods. Detective work is not for everyone. Though she has shown promise and he has enjoyed their conversations about work as much as he has with her about anything else, he is _aware_ that Augustine is probably correct in the matter. After all, the very _reason_ that Ray went in to the job in the first place was to try and experience things from his point of view. She needs to find her _own_ path now. 

Augustine walks away.

*

“The professor has been talking with you,” is the first thing that Ray says when Emile shows up at the Pokémon Center. He looks at her for an explanation. “When I tried to talk to him on the Holo Caster just now he said that he wanted me to talk with you. I couldn’t get anything else out of him, so I figured that the pair of you must have chatted. In any case I was coming to find you, not about that, but about something else.”

“You _were?”_ Emile is surprised and his eyebrows rise to indicate such a thing.

She nods. “Nurse Joy gave me her conclusions about the drugs.” Emile’s mouth turns into an ‘O’ shape, before they grab a table. She pulls the notes out of her bag and hands them to him.

Emile scans them. They confirm that the drugs contain ingredients, which would make Pokémon ill and drowsy over a period of time. He looks up at her. “You make a good partner for a detective Ray. Through our combined work all the Pokémon at the shelter will be in a _much_ better position, and soon.”

She is pleased. “I think that Augustine believes I would make a decent scientist too,” she is almost shy.

“And what do _you_ think? What would _you_ like to do Ray? Because although Augustine makes many good points it is your decision at the end of the day.”

She stares at the table and mulls it all over in her mind for a moment. She has thought of little _else_ than the conversation that she’d had with Augustine the previous night. She has flown mentally back to her time in childhood and thought about how much she used to enjoy being in the lab. Thought about where her life is and where she would like it to be. Reminded herself of the cons about her current job, whilst being aware too of how long it might take her to study in order to become a scientist. Either way the path in front of her is hard and a little daunting. Yet although she has thought very logically about the thing, at the end of the day it comes down to her _heart._ If she is being honest then she already knows the answer as far as that is concerned. She grins suddenly and looks up at Emile. “I would like to become a scientist.” It is a relief for her to confess such a thing. 

“Then I hope you do.” They get up and hug one another. She laughs against his chest.

She is like her Fletchling in that moment, Emile thinks, ready to rise up and spread her wings. It makes him feel quite emotional and will be a memory that he treasures forever.


	6. Epilogue

A Fletchling chirps on a tree that is outside an open windowsill under a bright blue sky. 

Ray-with her hair natural and straight, like she usually wears it now-takes a moment to look up at the bird Pokémon from where she is studying by her desk that is just before the window. The Fletchling reminds her of her old friend, _who,_ she’d decided, since she had to study for the next few years, would be better off with Emile. He had deemed the Pokémon to be suitable for detective work when they had met during the shelter case after all. [The people responsible for which have had to pay a fine and release the Pokémon into the care of those who are able to look after them properly, resulting in the best outcome possible, though Ray wishes that there was a way to stop people like that from _ever_ getting hold of Pokémon again and is aware that the case is not an unique one.] It had been a sad parting for Ray and Fletchling, with many tears on her side and chirping on Fletchling’s, but it relieves her to know that Emile and Fletchling are looking out for one another, as they travel to other regions and that she is _not_ causing Fletchling unintentional suffering through forcing him to stay with her when she doesn’t have as much time for him any more. 

“I see that Fletchling is helping you to study? I am sure that the one you used to have is flourishing as well.” Augustine ascends into the little attic room that is her oasis and passes her a cup of tea. The mug has, _‘This is what an awesome scientist looks like’_ on it with helpful arrows, which point towards the drinker and was initially gifted to her by Augustine. She receives it from him gratefully. He sits down on the camp bed that is behind where Ray is working, clasping his own mug. He had not had a far journey because the student house that she is staying in, is in Lumiose, where the university she is studying in is based. They see one another frequently, but when they cannot-during a busy period in the lab or her exams-she turns to the corkboard that is off to the side of where she has been studying for inspiration. There, there are postcards-full of their favourite Lumiose landmarks-love notes from Augustine and sections of her favourite letters from Emile, which always feature Fletchling and which she has photocopied, so as not to destroy the originals. [They are stashed in a drawer in her room.] The corkboard also features a few photos, some of Fletchling of course and one of which features both Emile and Augustine’s faces on either side of her own, as they all look down at a large fish Pokémon that she’d managed to reel in when they’d gone on a fishing trip. [Both men had managed to catch little in comparison that day and Augustine had toasted her luck around the campfire that night.] 

Now it has been almost a year since she has been at Kalos University. She is one of the top students in her class and is looking forward to the future more than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! :D


End file.
